


Just Stating Facts

by Yung_Mofftiss (OnWednesdaysWeStudyinPink)



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-17
Updated: 2009-12-17
Packaged: 2017-12-14 22:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnWednesdaysWeStudyinPink/pseuds/Yung_Mofftiss





	Just Stating Facts

Amy loved spending nights on stakeout with Nick; sure the air got stale and smelled like greasy pepperoni, and sure it was always too cold no matter how many layers she wore, and sure nothing ever happened while they sat in a car for nine hours straight, but she loved it. Nick always made it fun, even if it was only working on a crossword puzzle together.

Tonight he was the one sitting behind the wheel with the binoculars, trying to determine what a passing shadow on a third floor’s window curtain was. Her knees felt stiff from the cold and she rubbed her convertible mitten-gloves together as she watched Nick set down the binoculars to pull a small tablet out of his coat’s pocket. He was wearing cigar gloves so it made it much easier for him to start jotting down something with the little stub of a pencil out of the car’s cigarette lighter.

“Notes?” she asked, wondering if he’d come up with something new for the case they were working.

He didn’t look up, just licked the tip of his pencil and continued his chicken scratches. “No, a list; my roommate from college is going to be staying over this weekend and he’s bringing his fiancée with him. I need to stop at Linens n’ Shit when we get off duty to pick up some things to make my flat more appealing for the fairer sex.”

She moued her lips and raised an eyebrow. “Really, Nick? Linens n’ Shit?”

He gave her a very serious look. “Yep.”

He put the tablet away and tossed the pencil into one of their cup holders, picking the binoculars up again. They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Amy gave a tired sigh.

“I could really go for some hot chocolate—warm up my hands.”

“Your nose and cheeks are rosy from the cold. It makes you look cute,” Nick murmured as he studied the window and she made a noise of surprise, which caused him turn to look at her. “Now don’t flatter yourself, Jessup! I’m merely stating facts! You know me—truth teller.”

“Uh huh. Of course,” she agreed, grinning ear to ear.

He turned his attention back to the window and put the binoculars back up to his eyes. “Tell me Jessup—and you have to state facts, too—what is it about you exactly that is so cute? Pinpoint it for me.”

Sometimes she wasn’t sure if he was flirting was unintentional or incredibly cocky. “I have a cute smile. And a cute nose.”

“Don’t forget your laugh. That’s cute,” he added.

She nodded and looked at herself in the visor’s mirror. “My freckles. They’re a connect-the-dot of cute.”

“Don’t get poetic now. Just facts,” he said somewhat sternly.

Amy thought for a moment, trying to find something to surprise him with. “My toe ring.”

This did indeed capture his attention and he turned around to look at her. “A toe ring? Describe it.”

“It’s a little flower, painted with enamel, and the band is a little strap of clear elastic.”

“Which toe?”

“Index.”

“Left foot?” he asked.

She smiled—he knew her so well. “Yep.”

He nodded, his blue eyes looking deep within hers before returning his gaze to the window. “I like it, Jessup. Continue.”

Feeling sneaky, she declared, “My lips. I know you think they’re cute.”

He kept looking at the window and asked in a very unimpressed tone, “Is that so?”

She felt smug as she crossed her arms. “Yep.”

“Wrong. Your lips are sexy, not cute.”

Her face warm, she snapped, “Okay, what’s so cute about you?”

“You know those freecreditreport.com songs? I can sing all of them.”

Again, she raised her eyebrow. “What’s cute about that?”

“I know the proper air guitaring to go along with them. And I can do it baritone or falsetto—your choice,” he offered before turning to look at her. Seeing her expression, he quickly belted out in a high pitched tone, “Freecreditreport.com! Tell your friends tell your dad tell your mom! Never mind when we first showed up with our pirate hats on! If you’re not into fake sword fights, pointy slippers, and green wool tights—“

She threw up her hands. “Okay, Nick! Jeez! Point made!”

He picked his binoculars back up again and resumed the watch on the window they’d been watching. She shook her head, trying not to laugh as she peeled off her gloves—her palms were suddenly sweaty.

“I could sing ‘Moon River’ if you’d prefer,” he offered and she could see it was cold enough for his breath to start puffing out in small, silver clouds.

“I love that song,” she said softly, smiling at him, her eyes focusing on the back of his right ear.

“I know,” he sighed.

“How?”

“You talk in your sleep. Sometimes you even sing.”

“No way,” she said, frowning.

“Swear!” His eyes were wide and he held up his right hand as if he were taking an oath. “You’ve told me that you like steamed peas, you always use up the blue crayon first and that you’re too lazy to match your socks so you only buy one style in bulk so that you don’t have to think about it when you pull them out of your sock drawer.”

“Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing,” she groaned, sinking down in her seat.

“Chill out, Jessup. It’s not like you’ve told me that you have a foot fetish or fantasize about being one of those “Deal or No Deal” models or that you plan on meeting your future husband at a Star Wars convention,” he scoffed.

“Yeah, but you’re not the only partner I’ve done stakeout with!”

“I’ve asked around—it appears when it comes to sleep talking, I’m your  _first_.” He raised his brows and grinned at her before turning back around to look at that blasted window. “Just a fact.”

Not so cold anymore, she teased, “Is that so?”

He didn’t look at her but Amy could tell Nick was smiling. “Yes, ma’am. Just stating the facts.”


End file.
